Reading the Books: All Seven
by kikoanna
Summary: Right after Harry fixes his wand in the seventh book, a letter arrives requesting The Golden Trio's presence at the Room of Requirement. They will be joined by people from the past to read all of the Harry Potter Books, sent by mysterious people from the future. The books are slightly altered and will have VERY explicit physical abuse, possibly drug use. No PWP.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone/anything you recognize. If I did I would be a middle-aged billionaire. I'm not. 'Nuff said.

A/N The first sentence is the last line from the last book, for a point of reference.

PROLOUGUE

"I've had enough trouble for a lifetime."

Just then, a tapping was heard at the window of the headmaster's office. Harry spun around, wand raised, only to relax as he took in the sight of a beautiful Barn Owl with a letter on its leg.

"Who sent that?" Ron asked as Harry opened the window and untied the letter from its leg. With a hoot, the owl took off without waiting for a reply.

Harry examined the envelope and replied, "It doesn't say, maybe the letter will…" He opened the letter and began to read aloud:

"Dear Harry, Ron, and Hermione,

Congratulations on defeating Voldemort. It takes real courage to do that. Now, though, you need to go the Room of Requirement. To get to the right place, think _I need to get somewhere read the books._ There will be another letter in the room explaining the whole situation. For now, just follow these instructions.

From,

JP, AP,LP, RW, HW, VW,TL"

The trio shared incredulous looks, as they all thought about what the letter requested. Ron gathered the courage to break the tense silence first.

"Well, d'you think we should go? I mean, the rest of the Death Eater's won't have had time to try anything yet, and Y-Voldemort's gone so…"

Hermione looked anxious, while Harry chewed his lower lip in thought. Ron definitely had a point, and he was honestly curious as to what the letter senders wanted, not to mention whether or not the Room of Requirement would work after the Fiendfyre.

"Let's go," Harry voiced suddenly.

Hermione still looked torn. "But Harry… are you sure we should trust these people? I mean," Hermione said snatching the letter from his grip and rereading it. "They didn't give us much information, did they? Who could they be?"

"Well, maybe we'll find out when we get there. And since when are _you_ reluctant to read books, Hermione!" Ron teased. Hermione sighed, giving in.

"Fine. Let's go."

A/N Thanks for Reading! I don't really care if you review, but I would appreciate it. Also, when they start reading the books will be slightly different than how they really are. For one, Harry will be abused and neglected more than in the books, and I will make it pretty prominent. If this bothers you, don't read it. Simple. I may also make other changes, but I don't know what they will be yet. I'll try to update as often as possible, probably on the weekends.


	2. Chapter 1-The Boy Who Lived

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything you recognize.

A/N The people still alive and at Hogwarts will receive notes, anyone not there will receive a note with a Portkey, or if they are dead they will be transported there from the afterlife.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked into the Room of Requirement, then stopped in the doorway, frozen with shock. Sirius, Remus, James, Lily, Dumbledore, Severus, Tonks, Moody, and Fred all sat on couches surrounding a small table with seven books on it. Again, Ron was the first to speak.

"FRED!" he shouted launching himself at his dead brother, engulfing him in a hug. Fred just laughed.

"Oi, Ron! You're crushing me!" Ron just stared at his dead brother.

"But you're- you're- I _saw_ you, your b-body in the Great Hall, you're _dead _how are you _here?_"

Fred's eyes darkened a bit, but his tone remained jovial. "Yeah, I am. But when I died, I ended up in this white room, and I started walking… I was in some place I didn't recognize, sort of like a mansion, when I saw all these guys. After I started talking to them, a door appeared out of nowhere… we all walked through, without even questioning it… and we were here. It was just a minute ago, then you three walked in. That's all I know."

Ron just continued gaping at him, not removing his arms, but Harry's eyes were transfixed on a certain mess of black hair, and a pair of emerald eyes. "Mum…Dad? Sirius? Remus?" he whispered brokenly.

James and Lily Potter smiled at him, along with a certain dog Animagus and a werewolf. Sirius broke the silence.

"Come here, pup."

Harry walked over, still stunned into shock with what he was seeing and hearing. He sat down on the couch and just stared at his parents.

James smiled gently, and pulled his son into an embrace. Lily sat on his other side and hugged him too, trying to comfort him through the silent sobs she could see shaking her son's body.

"Hush, hush Harry, it's okay, we're here," she soothed.

He looked up at her, tears still running down his face. "Are you here to stay?" he asked softly.

Seeing her child so sad, not daring to hope, broke her heart. She wanted so much to reassure him, but the mother wanted to be honest with him more. "I really don't know, hon. I really don't know," she whispered to him.

Harry swallowed and pulled himself together. Nodding slowly at her words, he looked over at the Marauders.

"I missed you guys," Harry stated louder than before.

Sirius, Remus, and James all smiled at him and said simultaneously, "We missed you too." Then they glanced at each other in surprise before breaking out in grins.

"Guess we still got it!" Sirius exclaimed. When Harry looked at him curiously, he elaborated. "When we were in school, and for a few years after that, we would always accidently say things at the same time. It drove everyone nuts," he chuckled.

"I'm so happy that you're all here," Hermione cut in, smiling at everyone, but still seeming confused. "But, er, why are you here?" She then blushed hearing how blunt her words sounded.

Suddenly, a note appeared in a flash of light and floated down to the table. Tonks grabbed it and read aloud, "Notes have been sent to more people who will be joining you shortly. When they show up, a new note and seven books will materialize." She looked up from the parchment, confused. "Who is this from?" Hermione took out the note that drew them here and showed everyone the initials on it.

Everyone was jerked away from looking at the note as it was passed around when the door creaked open. A head of vibrant red hair poked around the side of the door. Molly Weasly gasped when she saw the occupants of the room. As she scanned them, her gaze stopped her son. He stood up and moved into an open space, anticipating her reaction to seeing the son she believed dead for such a short time. She rushed at him and held him close in her arms, rocking him back and forth on his feet.

"Hello Mum," Fred said brightly. She started sobbing and asking him how this could possibly be true, how he could be back after his body was there, right _there_ in the Great Hall. He gave the same explanation he gave to the others. Then Harry noticed the rest of the Weasly family standing in the door awkwardly, not daring to interrupt their mother's moment with her son. He beckoned them in, and they came over uncertainly. Surprisingly, Professor McGonagall was there too, hidden at the back of the group. The situation was explained to them, and they hesitatingly accepted it.

Harry looked over the Weaslys to find the face he was looking for. His vision rested on the youngest child. His question was plain in his eyes. Ginny's response surprised him. She walked over to him, straddled his lap, and whispered in his ear for no one else to hear, "Of course I take you back you bastard, don't ever risk your life again."

Everyone else seemed slightly surprised by this development, but took it in stride. (If by take it in stride you mean "either shot death glares *coughRonBillCharliePercyGeor geFredcough* or looked for a half second then glanced away in slight embarrassment with the resolve to talk to that boy later *coughArthurRemusLilycough* or grinned in congratulations *coughJamesSiriuscough* or actually took it in stride *coughDumbledoreTonksSeverusM inervacough*" then… yeah) Harry did not notice any of this, however. He had something he needed to tell her.

"I love you Ginny."

"I love you too," she said grinning.

Harry finally took in the reactions of the others around the room, namely the ones of her older brothers, and then grinningly teased, "You know, I like these seating arrangements, don't you?" Glancing at her brothers, she caught on to what he was doing and played along.

"Oh, I don't know, I think I'd like it better if I was a little closer," Ginny mused, while slipping her hips a little nearer to his. Harry bit back a burst of laughter.

"Especially if we do this," he said catching her lips in a slow kiss. Catching the look on Ron's face when he pulled away, he actually became slightly frightened for his life if he continued. "…maybe we should quit it. It would be a shame to waste all the effort I put into staying alive because of your brothers killing me with their bare hands," he said loud enough for everyone to hear. Ginny just rested her head on his shoulder and didn't pull away. Harry gave a small smile with his eyes shining with love, and just pressed his lips to the top of her head.

Then, the door opened again. The whole group looked up to see who entered.

It was the Malfoys.

Sirius snarled and pointed his wand at Lucius. "Get out, or I'll make you," he threatened quietly.

"Er- I don't think that'll work," Draco spoke up suddenly.

"Why the hell not?"

"The door locked itself…"

Sirius cursed some more and sat down again. While Lily scolded him with her eyes, a new note flashed in with seven thick books. Dumbledore retrieved the note this time and read, "These books detail seven years of Harry Potter's life, starting with when he starts first year. We have sent them from the future so that you all know what he has done, how much he has been through. In our time, they are sold as fiction in the muggle world, technically without his consent. A muggle who had never met him or even heard of him was inspired to write these by an unknown force, and Harry verified them as being completely true, so without further ado, get reading! The door will unlock when you finish every book. House elves will bring you food and drink, and bedrooms and bathrooms will appear as needed. Enjoy!"

Harry couldn't wrap his head around the idea of the whole world, magical and muggle, knowing his story. A thrill of apprehension went through him. What if it started at the Dursley's? He'd be so ashamed if- when- they all found out about his life there. How would they react when they all heard that he couldn't even defend himself against his muggle uncle? He was so lost in thought that until then he didn't even know that everyone was staring at him. He jerked out of those thoughts and gave them all a nervous smile. They all returned the smile with a question in their eyes that he ignored. Dumbledore just beamed at them all and offered to read first. When no one refused, he picked up the book labeled Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone Year One and began to read. (A/N The book or the words I mean to put in the book will be in bold.)

**Chapter One: The Boy Who Lived**

Harry groaned at this and leaned his head back. They looked at him either questioningly or understandingly, depending on how well they knew him.

**Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.**

"Well you're very welcome," the Marauders and the Twins chorused. They all grinned at each other. Lily, however, frowned. _Why did Tuney still act like that?_

**They were the last people you would expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.**

**Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills.**

Before the purebloods could ask, Hermione explained, "It's a device that makes holes in wood or metal so they can be connected with a thin rod of metal."

**He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large mustache.**

"How attractive," Sirius said rolling his eyes.

**Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the normal amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors.**

"Hasn't changed much then," muttered Severus. Most of the people there gave him a strange look at that, but Dumbledore just kept reading.

**The Dursleys had a small son named Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.**

Half the Weaslys and Harry snorted at this.

**The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that someone would discover it.**

Here, everyone (but Harry) subconsciously leaned forwards in interest, Ginny having repositioned herself next to Harry.

**They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters.**

"Oi!" about half the room shouted. There was general grumbling and complaints for a few moments, which Dumbledore allowed to continue as he thought with a frown on his face. He hadn't realized that their dislike ran so deep. Brushing it off, he continued reading.

**Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband**

Harry's eyes hardened at this, which everyone saw but no one mentioned.

**were as unDursleyish as it was possible to be.**

"Thank Merlin," James said as Hermione sniffed at the use of a non-word. Ron smiled at her and grabbed her hand at that. It was such a… _Hermione_ reaction.

**The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Potters arrived on the street. The Dursleys knew that the Potter's had a small son, too, but they had never even seen him. This boy was another good reason for keeping the Potters away; they didn't want Dudley mixing with a boy like that.**

"Trust me, I never wanted to mix with him either," said Harry wryly.

**When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the dull, gray Tuesday on which our story starts, there was nothing to about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious thing would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Dursley hummed **

"He _what?_" Harry spluttered. "But- but- he hates anything creative! Or musical! I know that _very, very_ well, and here he is humming?!" Dumbledore waited patiently for Harry's rant to finish, and continued when he was sure he was done.

**as he picked out his most boring tie for work, and Mrs. Dursley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair.**

"Sounds like a delightful child," Molly said sarcastically. She took raising kids seriously, she had to with seven children, and it did not sound like they were disciplining this _Dudley_ at all.

**None of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window.**

"I know they're muggles, but how could they miss an owl? Nothing could be more _obvious_." Draco drawled.

"Muggles don't use owls for post, Malfoy." Ginny snapped. "They don't expect them. Now will you all _shut up_ so we can finish the book before next month?" Dumbledore took this as his cue to keep reading.

**At half past eight, Mr. Dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs. Dursley on the cheek, and tried to kiss Dudley good-bye but missed, because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the wall.**

While she didn't comment, Molly's frown deepened at this.

"**Little tyke," chortled Mr. Dursley**

"HE'S ENCOURAGING THAT SORT OF BEHAVIOR?!" screeched an outraged Mrs. Weasley.

"Molly, Molly, calm down dearest, it's not our problem, it's theirs for letting their child act like that," Arthur tried to sooth his furious wife. It seemed to work a bit, seeing as she was no longer shouting, but you could practically see the smoke coming out of her ears from her fuming.

**as he left the house. He got into his car and backed out of number four's drive.**

**It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar – a cat reading a map.**

"Is that you Minnie?" Sirius asked innocently.

"Do not call me that."

The Twins grinned at each other for the first time since Fred's death. Professor McGonagall saw this and didn't know whether to smile or groan.

**For a second, Mr. Dursley didn't realize what he had seen – then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a tabby cat standing on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn't a map in sight. What could he have been thinking of? It must've been a trick of the light.**

"Muggles will go to any lengths to ignore magic, won't they?" Bill said thoughtfully.

**Mr. Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back. As Mr. Dursley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive – no, **_**looking**_** at the sign; cats couldn't read maps **_**or**_** signs.**

"Minnie can," James sang.

**Mr. Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove toward town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day.**

**But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks.**

"Why aren't the wizards in muggle clothing if they're in the muggle world?"

**Mr. Dursley couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes – the getups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion.**

"Not exactly _new_, per se," Charlie mused.

**He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdos**

"_We're _not the weirdos, _you_ are," Ron grumbled.

**standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together. Mr. Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald green cloak! **

"There's nothing wrong with that! That's what people wear!"

"Percy… he doesn't know that. He's a muggle." Hermione said in the same tone that you would use to explain something obvious to a young child.

**The nerve of him! **

"Oh yes, the _nerve_!" James mocked.

**Then it struck Mr. Dursley that this was probably some silly stunt – these people were obviously collecting for something… yes, that would be it. **

An eye-rolling epidemic suddenly struck the room at these words.

**The traffic moved on and a few minutes later, Mr. Dursley arrived in the Grunnings parking lot, his mind back on drills.**

**Mr. Dursley always sat with his back to the window window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn't, he might've found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. **_**He**_** didn't see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead.**

Draco sniggered a bit, imagining how stupid they must've looked.

**Most of them had never seen an owl even at nighttime. Mr. Dursley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at five different people. He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more.**

Charlie rolled his eyes. "Really productive, huh?"

**He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road**

Harry gasped.

**to buy himself a bun from the bakery.**

"Okay, that makes a lot more sense."

**He'd forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker's. He eyed them angrily as he passed.**

"Yeah, I'm sure they'll be very intimidated by a fat jerk glaring at them." To everyone's surprise, Harry said this. They all had the same thought simultaneously: _What did this person do to make Harry so bitter towards him?_

**He didn't know why, but they made him uneasy.**

"That'd be because they're decent people, something you're not used to."

**This bunch were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single collecting tin. It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying.**

"**The Potter's, that's right, that's what I heard – "**

"**Yes, their son, Harry – "**

Here, anyone who hadn't caught on yet to when this was figured it out. Almost the whole room bowed their heads in sadness.

**Mr. Dursley stopped dead. **

"Yay!" This was from the Twins and The Marauders, who had all decided that if Harry was so opposed to this guy they would be too. Harry gave them a small smile for their support.

**Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it.**

Arthur thought about that. "What do you think they would have done? A random muggle telling them off in the middle of the street…"

** He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone,**

"What's a-" Charlie started. Hermione cut him off.

"Anything you need defined just write down and I'll explain later."

**and he had almost finished dialing his home number when he changed his mind. He put the receiver back down and stroked his mustache, thinking… no, he was being stupid. **

"Probably the smartest thing he ever said." Fred and George chorused.

"Well, he got a few things right," Harry said quietly.

**Potter wasn't such an unusual name. **

At James' confused look, Lily explained, "It's actually quite common in the muggle world. So is 'Black'"

Sirius looked surprised at that.

**He was sure there were lots of people called Potter who had a son called Harry. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure his nephew was called Harry. **

"He didn't even know your name?" Minerva exclaimed.

"Not sure if he does now…" he muttered under his breath. Ginny heard, but didn't comment.

**He'd never even seen the boy. It might have been Harvey. Or Harold. **

"I would never name my son that," James and Lily both vowed. They were taken aback by it, but smiled at each other.

"Glad we agree," James remarked.

**There was no point in worrying Mrs. Dursley; she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. He didn't blame her – if **_**he'd**_** had a sister like that…**

"Like _what, _exactly?" Remus said levelly, but with fury clear behind it.

**but all the same, those people in cloaks…**

** He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon and when he left the building at five o' clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door.**

"Poor guy probably got crushed," Ron said sympathetically.

** "Sorry," he grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before Mr. Dursley realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak. **

"Okay, that's good; if he's a wizard he can re-inflate himself." Harry said with a wry smile.

**He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passerby stare, "Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!"**

"Really, it's a miracle we weren't discovered, if they just go around saying things like that to any muggle they see," Minerva said crossly.

** And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle**

"His arms fit?!" Harry shouted in astonishment, looking aghast at the book in his old headmaster's hands.

**and walked off.**

** Mr. Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was. He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off for home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination.**

Fred: How can you not-

George: Approve of-

"Imagination?" they said flabbergastedly.

** As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw – and it didn't improve his mood – was the tabby cat he'd spotted that morning. It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes.**

"Definitely Minnie."

"If I have to tell you not to call me that one more time I swear I'll-"

** "Shoo!" said Mr. Dursley loudly.**

"Not gonna work if it's Mi- er, Professor McGonagall," sang Sirius, faltering at the look the cat Animagus shot at him when he nearly called her Minnie.

** The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look. **

"We all know who it is, you don't have to say it again!" said Molly exasperatedly as Sirius opened his mouth to speak _yet again._

**Was this normal cat behavior? **

"Noit'snormalMinniebehavior," Sirius said quickly. Severus couldn't do more than look at him in shock. Defying the transfiguration teacher repeatedly could be hazardous to your health, everyone knew that.

**Mr. Dursley wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife.**

** Mrs. Dursley had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs. Next Door's problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learned a new word ("Won't!"). **

Molly was stewing yet again over that child's behavior.

**Mr. Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living room in time to catch the last report on the evening news:**

** "And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been acting very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern." The newscaster allowed himself a grin. "Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be anymore showers of owls tonight, Jim?"**

** "Well, Ted,"**

"Whoa, that's my dad he works for the muggle news!" Tonks blurted.

**said the weatherman, "I don't know about that, but ****it's**** not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire, and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people have been celebrating bonfire night early – it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight."**

** Mr. Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters…**

"If _he's _piecing it together, we're all doomed." George spat.

** Mrs. Dursley came into the living room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. **

"That bloke's _whipped._"

"**Er – Petunia, dear – you haven't heard anything from your sister lately, have you?"**

** As he had expected, Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister.**

Molly looked sadly at Lily. She wouldn't have been able to bear it if she was estranged from her brothers before their deaths.

** "No," she said sharply. "Why?"**

** "Funny stuff on the news," Mr. Dursley mumbled. "Owls… shooting stars… and there were a lot of funny-looking people on town today…"**

** "**_**So?**_**" snapped Mrs. Dursley.**

** "Well, I just thought… maybe… it was something to do with… you know… **_**her**_** crowd."**

"I wouldn't call us a crowd, really. That would be like calling…" Hermione trailed off as the boys eyes glazed over.

** Mrs. Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. **

"Same as ever then," Snape muttered.

**Mr. Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name "Potter." He decided he didn't dare. Instead he said, as casually as he could, "Their son – he'd be about Dudley's age now, wouldn't he?"**

** "I suppose so," said Mrs. Dursley stiffly.**

** "What's his name again? Howard, isn't it?"**

"I wouldn't name you that either," James grumbled.

** "Harry. Nasty, common name, if you ask me."**

** "Oh, yes," said Mrs. Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree."**

** He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed. While Mrs. Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr. Dursley crept to the bedroom window and peered into the front garden. The cat was still there. It was staring down Privet Drive as though it was waiting for something.**

"I was."

"So it _was_ you!"

"Sirius, when did _anyone_ in this room _ever_ doubt it?"

** Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with the Potters? If it did… if it got out that they were related to a pair of – well, he didn't think he could bear it.**

"He can't even say the word," Charlie said, disgust clear in his voice.

** The Dursleys got into bed. Mrs. Dursley fell asleep quickly but Mr. Dursley lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if the Potter's **_**were**_** involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs. Dursley. The Potter's knew very well what he and Petunia thought about them and their kind… He couldn't see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on – he yawned and turned over – it couldn't affect **_**them**_**….**

"DON'T JINX IT!"

** How very wrong he was.**

Harry groaned and leaned his head back.

** Mr. Dursley might have been drifting off into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no sign of sleepiness. It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed on the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all.**

** A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat's tail twitched and it's eyed narrowed.**

Nearly the whole room flinched, having been on the receiving side of the very same glare.

** Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Privet Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.**

"Oh, we thought it was the other tall old man with long silver hair, high heels, and twinkling blue eyes," teased Bill.

** Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something, but he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should've known."**

The "cat" in question glared at him some more for that.

** He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. **

Most of the room was confused, not believing he would ever smoke.

**He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. **

The aforementioned people gasped in surprise and appreciation.

**He clicked it again – the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out their window now, even the beady-eyed Mrs. Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it but after a moment he spoke to it.**

** "Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."**

Sirius just smirked.

** He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.**

She looked even more ruffled at this description.

** "How did you know it was me?" she asked.**

The whole room bit back laughter, not wanting to get on her bad side.

** "My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."**

** "You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall.**

** "All day? When you could've been celebrating? I must've passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."**

"I thought you apparated Professor?" said a confused Hermione. Said man just ignored the question, his eyes twinkling madly as he read on.

** Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily.**

This time it was impossible to hold back all the laughter. A rather pink deputy headmistress glared at the group, quieting them quickly.

**"Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no – even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Dursley's dark living-room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls… shooting stars… Well, they're not completely stupid. **

This earned her a few glare from various people around the room.

**They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent – I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."**

"He bowed to me once, in a shop," commented Harry, who suddenly smiled cynically. "Aunt Petunia wasn't very happy, to put it lightly."

** "You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."**

** "I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors."**

** She threw a sharp sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though she was hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really **_**has**_** gone, Dumbledore?"**

** "It certainly seems so," **

He got a quick glance from most of the people in the room at that. He, however, ignored them.

**said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"**

"A _what_?" Draco queried incredulously.

** "A **_**what**_**?"**

He blushed at that and looked at the ground.

** "A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."**

** "No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops.**

"It wasn't."

"Ah, my dear Professor, it is _always_ the time for lemon drops."

"**As I say, even if You-Know-Who **_**has**_** gone –"**

** "My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense – for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: **_**Voldemort**_**." Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."**

"Fear of a name only increases your fear of the thing itself," Harry upheld, to absolutely no one's surprise.

** "I know you haven't," said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, **_**Voldemort**_**, was frightened of."**

** "You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."**

"Only because you're far too _noble_ to use them, Professor," said Hermione, blushing slightly as she hadn't meant to say that out loud.

** "Only because you're too – well – **_**noble **_**to use them."**

This only made her blush more. Ron grinned at her and rubbed her back, murmuring quietly in her ear.

** "It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madame Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."**

"…Way, way, way too much information…" Charlie said slowly.

Albus chuckled. "They turned hot pink and glittery whenever my ears got to cold."

"Okay, that's better."

** Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing next to the **_**rumors**_** that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"**

This sobered everyone up.

** It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she'd been most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, **

She nodded at this.

**for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. **

That made everyone shudder again.

**It was clear that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer.**

** "What they're **_**saying**_**," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are – are – that they're – **_**dead.**_**"**

Harry was shaking with silent sobs at this point, his face buried in his mother's side, hi father's arm around him.

** Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped. **

** "Lily and James… I can't believe it… I didn't want to believe it… Oh, Albus…"**

James smiled at her expression of care.

** Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know… I know…" he said heavily.**

** Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry. But – he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke – and that's why he's gone."**

** Dumbledore nodded glumly.**

** "It's – it's **_**true**_**?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done… all the people he's killed… he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding… of all the things to stop him… but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?**

** "We can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We may never know."**

** Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took out a golden watch and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must've made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"**

Remus chuckled softly. "He never did know how to keep a secret."

** "Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me **_**why**_** you're here, of all places?"**

** "I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."**

** "You don't mean – you **_**can't**_** mean the people who live **_**here**_**?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore – you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son – I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here!"**

** "It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly. **

"No, it wasn't," Harry said under his breath.

"**His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."**

"You tried to explain a whole a whole _war, _an evil, sadistic wizard, Lily's and my deaths, and the fact that a they would have to raise a 15-month-old in a _letter_, to Muggles no less?" James said softly, his voice shaking with anger. Dumbledore chose to ignore him and move on.

** "A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He'll be famous – a legend – I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day **

Harry shuddered at the very thought.

**in the future – there will be books written about Harry – every child in our world will know his name!"**

"Unfortunately," Harry muttered.

** "Exactly," said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boys head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can't you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?"**

"While I appreciate the thought, I wish you would have put me somewhere else, sir." Harry spoke up. Some people looked at him a little oddly, but shook it off.

** Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes – yes, you're right, of course. But how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?" Shy eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Harry beneath it.**

*collective shudder around the room*

** "Hagrid's bringing him."**

** "You think it – **_**wise **_**– to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"**

"I would trust Hagrid with my life," James said solemnly.

** "I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.**

He looked a little embarrassed but proud that he said the same thing as Dumbledore.

** "I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to – what was that?"**

** A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky – and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.**

Sirius grinned a little cockily at that.

** If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so **_**wild**_** – long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in his leather boots were like baby dolphins. **

"That's… surprisingly accurate, actually."

**In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.**

** "Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"**

** "Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. **

His grin only grew.

**I've got him, sir."**

** "No problems, were there?"**

** "No sir – house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol."**

"Aww," the women in the room cooed as Harry flushed pink.

** Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead **

"Aww." This time, the guys joined in too just to bug Harry. Still blushing furiously, he tried to shake it off.

**they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.**

He rubbed the spot subconsciously.

** "Is that where –?" whispered Professor McGonagall.**

** "Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever."**

** "Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"**

Harry looked at him hopefully.

** "Even if I could, I wouldn't. **

He looked down in disappointment.

**Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. **

"Okay…"

**Well – give him here, Hagrid – we'd better get this over with."**

** Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned towards the Dursley's house.**

** "Could I – could I saw good-bye to him, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great shaggy head over Harry and gave him what must've been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.**

** "Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "you'll wake the Muggles!"**

"You're fantastic at the whole 'comforting and reassuring' thing, you know that Minnie?"

** "S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it – Lily an' James dead – an' poor little Harry off to live with Muggles –"**

** "Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," **

Sirius just snorted at that with a smile.

**Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Harry gently on the doorstep, **

"YOU. LEFT. MY. _SON_. ON. A. _DOORSTEP?!_" Lily screamed at the old man, drawing her wand.

Looking distinctly uncomfortable, he kept reading.

**took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets, and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulder's shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.**

Lily calmed down a little at that. She knew he must've felt truly awful if his eyes stopped twinkling…

** "Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go join the celebrations."**

** "Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I'll be takin' Sirius his bike back. **

"He never did," Sirius grumbled.

**G'night, Professor McGonagall – Professor Dumbledore, sir."**

** Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.**

** "I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.**

This made a few smiles appear.

** Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the Put-Outer. He clicked it once and twelve balls of light sped back to their streetlamps, so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange, and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.**

** "Good luck, Harry," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.**

"Trust me, I needed it," Harry sighed.

** A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him **

"Awww."

**and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he'd be woken in a few hours time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley… He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter – the boy who lived!"**


	3. Chapter 2-The Vanishing Glass

Disclaimer: I will never own anything you recognize. However, since I changed the book a little, I can claim credit for that.

A/N There will be some graphic abuse in this chapter, don't like don't read! Also, his parents are surprised at his treatment because they couldn't see him from where they were until after he knew of his magical abilities and he wasn't opposed to them doing so.

"That's all," Dumbledore said. "Who would like to read next?"

"Er – what's the next chapter called?" Harry asked nervously.

"The Vanishing Glass."

Lily beamed. "Are we going to hear about some accidental magic, then?"

"Unfortunately," Harry muttered.

James looked at his son oddly. "What do you mean?"

"If I'm unlucky enough, you'll see. Professor Dumbledore, sir, I'll read."

James just looked even more confused, but didn't protest. Severus, however, was looking at the young man with suspicion. If his hunch was right… he shook himself of those thoughts. Of course it was wrong. There was no way; he would have seen the signs – right?

Just before Harry started, a new note wafted from seemingly nowhere.

_Most of the rest of the books will be from Harry's point of view._

**Chapter Two- The Vanishing Glass**

** Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephew on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all. **

"Sounds awfully boring," Fred frowned. Harry just gave a humorless laugh.

"You have no idea."

**The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens **

Lily frowned at the same time Severus did. The same thought was running through both of their minds. _Petunia always hated gardening._

**and lit up the brass number four on the Dursleys' front door; it crept into their living room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night when Mr. Dursley had seen that fateful news report about the owls. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a beach ball wearing different colored bonnets – **

Several questioning glances were thrown around the room at that, but they were turned to gales of laughter when Harry continued.

**but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, **

Fred and George were struggling to catch their breath.

Harry looked at them, concerned. "Er – it really wasn't _that_ funny…" They just ignored him and kept howling with laughter. After another worried glance, he decided to just keep going, albeit a bit louder.

**and now the photographs showed a large blonde boy riding his first bicycle, on a carousel at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother. The room held no sign at all that another boy lived in the house, too.**

"You were there, weren't you Harry?" Hermione asked.

** Yet Harry Potter was still there, **

"Oh."

**asleep at the moment, but not for long. His Aunt Petunia was awake and it was her shrill voice that made the first noise of the day.**

** "Up! Get up! Now!"**

"Urgh, that's a terrible way to wake up," Lily said wincing and rubbing her ears.

** Harry woke with a start. His Aunt rapped on the door again.**

** "Up!" she screeched. Harry heard her unlocking his door, walking toward the kitchen, and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the stove. **

"Wait – why did she need to unlock your door?" asked Charlie, confused.

"Harry… how could you hear all that from your bedroom?"

Ignoring the first question, he answered, "My bedroom was downstairs, Remus."

**He rolled onto his back and immediately regretted it, as the welts on his back had yet to heal. **

"What do you mean by 'welts on your back'," demanded none other than Severus softly. No answer was really needed; it was obvious what he meant. Severus felt awful. He'd hated the boy, treated him like he was worth less than the dirt on his shoe. _How could I have missed this? Maybe it wasn't too severe…_ The rest of the room traded shocked, horrified glances. Dumbledore was nearly shaking with horror and disappointment. _How could I have left a little boy there for 16 years?_

**Rolling back onto his side, he tried to remember the dream he had been having. It had been a good one, for once. There had been a flying motorcycle in it. He had a funny feeling he'd had the same dream before.**

"You remember that?" asked Hermione in disbelief. (But quietly, as she was still in shock from the last paragraph's revelations.)

Harry just nodded, his eyes not roving from the page to meet the pity-filled gazes. The only ones not sending them were the Malfoys. The elder two were looking into each other's eyes as though in silent conversation, while Draco was staring at the floor, ashamed of himself.

** His aunt was back outside the door.**

** "Are you up yet?" she demanded.**

** "Nearly," said Harry.**

** "Well, get a move on, you need to start breakfast. **

"She made you cook?" Molly yelped.

Harry finally looked up at her. He smiled softly and nodded. "I really didn't mind, I sort of enjoyed it. I wasn't too bad at it either." _It was also the only time I felt safe._

Ron let out a harsh laugh. "Which means he's the best damn cook in the whole world, if he's admitting any talent." Now that he knew the reason for Harry's modesty, it filled him with fury. How _dare_ these monsters hurt his best friend?

**And don't you dare let it burn, **

Molly grumbled at this.

**I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday."**

** Harry groaned.**

** "What did you say?" his aunt snapped through the door.**

** "Nothing, nothing…"**

** Dudley's birthday – how could he have forgotten? **

Lily spoke up. "Did they ever remember yours?" she whispered sarcastically.

To her surprise, Harry winced. "Yes, always."

**Harry got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. He found a pair under his cot and, after pulling a spider **

*cue Ron shudder*

**off of one of them, put them on. Harry was used to spiders, **

*cue Ron shudder 2*

**because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where he slept.**

"_What!_" the whole room either shouted, screamed, snarled, whispered, or thought. (I'll let you figure it out this time.)

** When he was dressed, (which took longer than usual with a fractured arm,) **

James hissed under his breath. However, Harry heard him say 'arseholes'. How strange.

**he went down the hall into the kitchen. The table was almost hidden beneath all Dudley's birthday presents. **

"Small table?" asked Ginny hopefully.

"Sits eight people comfortably."

**It looked as though Dudley had gotten the new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and racing bike. **

At Arthur's half-glance, Hermione whispered to him, "Write down whatever you have questions about, I'll answer them after the book." A quill, ink bottle, and piece of parchment were suddenly in front of him, (It is the RoR after all) and he began to scribble madly.

**Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery to Harry, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise – unless of course it involved punching somebody. **

Half the people in the room growled, guessing exactly who he liked to punch.

Harry paused nervously before the next sentence. Everyone had already figured out his uncle hit him, but saying it was something else entirely…

**Like father, like son, he supposed. Harry would know this better than anyone, as he was the favorite punching bag to both. **

The glares being sent to the book were enough to make Harry want to hide behind the couch. Although he knew they weren't for him, it still forcibly reminded him of his uncle. Harry wouldn't usually be so easy to scare, but reading this was bringing back some awful memories. On another note, he was honestly astonished that the book hadn't burst into flame by now.

**Fortunately, Dudley couldn't often catch him. Harry didn't look it, but he was very fast. **

"Don't we know it," Ron whispered to Hermione, grinning.

She just grinned in return and stifled a laugh. Harry could overtake them running at a consistent pace while they were sprinting.

**Unfortunately, he had less room to run from Uncle Vernon, so he would **_**always**_** catch Harry, and his punishment would be worse because of it. **

The smiles disappeared.

**Because of this, Harry had stopped running from him a long time ago. Besides, most of his punishments were deserved, anyway.**

"What the hell do you mean, _deserved_? Did you beat them up? Did you make them cook at a young age?" Molly asked scathingly. He just ignored her, the old arguments running through his mind.

** Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, or maybe it was from when his punishments included missing his one meal a day, **

"One meal?" asked Ron incredulously.

Harry just shifted awkwardly.

**but Harry had always been small and skinny for his age. **

"No, that's just your dad's genes," Sirius said with a half smile. "He was a scrawny git for just as long as you." James sent a mock glare his way. Harry, seeing their antics, felt marginally more cheerful.

**He looked even smaller and skinnier than he really was, because all he had to wear were old clothes of Dudley's, and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was. **

More glares sent the book's way.

**Harry had a thin face, **

"Prongs," Remus and Sirius agreed.

**knobbly knees, **

"Prongs."

**black hair, **

"Pr-"

"We get it, Padfoot, Moony! He looks like me!"

**and bright green eyes. **

"Lily-flower!"

She sighed in fake despondence. "You'll never stop calling me that, will you?"

"Not a chance."

**He wore round glasses held together with lots of Scotch tape because of all the times Dudley and Uncle Vernon had punched him on the nose. **

Now the book actually _did_ catch fire. Harry yelped and dropped it on the floor. Hermione doused the flame with a flick of her wand, and Harry picked it up gingerly. Thankfully, there was no damage. Wondering what charm would protect it from fire, Harry read on.

**The only thing Harry liked about his own appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead that was shaped like a bolt of lightning. **

"You actually liked it?" asked Hermione disbelievingly.

"Before I knew what it really stood for, yeah." When Hermione still looked skeptical, he got sort of defensive. "It's shaped like lightning, Hermione! What 10-year-old boy, totally ignorant of what it really meant, wouldn't think that was at least a little bit cool!" Hermione conceded the point, waving her hand to indicate he should continue.

**He had had it as long as he could remember, and the first question he could ever remember asking his Aunt Petunia was how he had gotten it.**

** "In the car crash when your parents died," **

"She – that — _urgh _– woman – lied to you about how we _died?"_ Lily ranted.

"Wouldn't be the first time," Harry muttered, but no one heard.

**she had said. "And **_**don't**_**," she had accompanied this word with a slap to the back of his head, **

No one had ever heard words like_ that _come out of Lily Potter's mouth.

"**ask questions, boy."**

_**Don't ask questions**_** – that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursleys.**

** Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen as Harry was turning over the bacon.**

** "Comb your hair!" he barked, by way of a morning greeting. The only reason this wasn't accompanied by a sharp slap was because the fat arse didn't **_**dare**_** risk the bacon.**

Something seemed to dawn on Molly. "That was why you liked cooking, wasn't it?" He just nodded shortly.

** About once a week, Uncle Vernon looked over the top of his newspaper and shouted that Harry needed a haircut. Harry must've had more haircuts than the rest of of the boys in his class put together, but it made no difference, his hair simply grew that way – all over the place.**

"Ha! No one will beat the Potter hair! IT SHALL ALWAYS PREVAIL!" Sirius declared. Harry looked at his godfather a little strangely.

** Harry was frying eggs by the time Dudley arrived in the kitchen with his mother. Dudley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon. He had a large pink face, not much neck, small, watery blue eyes, and thick blonde hair that lay smoothly on his thick, fat head. Aunt Petunia often said that Dudley looked like a baby angel – Harry often said that Dudley looked like a pig in a wig.**

The hopeful yet mischievous glint in both the Twins' and the Marauders' eyes began to frighten him.

** Harry put the three plates of egg and bacon on the table, **

"Three plates?"

"I just get dinner."

**which was difficult as there wasn't much room. Dudley, meanwhile, was counting his presents. His face fell.**

** "Thirty-six," he said, looking up at his mother and father. "That's two less than last year."**

"Thirty-six?" Draco asked in disbelief. "I don't even get that much!" He blushed under the looks from the rest of the room.

** "Darling, you haven't counted Aunt Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from Mummy and Daddy."**

** "All right, thirty-seven then," said Dudley, going red in the face. **

Molly looked disgusted at this. _He's even more spoilt than I thought!_

**Harry could see a huge Dudley tantrum coming on, so he stood up under the pretense of cleaning up so that he wouldn't get hurt if Dudley turned the table over.**

"Good call, mate." Ron said wisely.

** Aunt Petunia obviously scented danger, too, because she said quickly, "And we'll buy you another **_**two**_** presents while we're out today. How's that, popkin? **_**Two**_** more presents. Is that all right?"**

The eldest Weasley woman looked as though this was simply beyond her comprehension.

** Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work. "So I'll have thirty… Thirty…"**

"How did that… _idiot_ get past first grade?" asked Hermione.

"I'm actually pretty sure he bribed the school."

** "Thirty-nine, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia.**

** "Oh." Dudley sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest parcel. "All right then."**

** Uncle Vernon chuckled.**

** "Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. 'Atta boy, Dudley!" He ruffled Dudley's hair.**

"He ENCOURAGES SUCH BEHAVIOR?!" shrieked Mrs. Weasley. That was simply the last straw.

** At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry and Uncle Vernon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a video camera, a remote control airplane, sixteen new computer games, and a VCR. **

More scribbling from Arthur.

**He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petunia came back from the telephone looking both angry and worried.**

** "Bad news, Vernon," she said. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take him." She jerked her head in Harry's direction.**

"_Him_ has a name, you know," Ginny complained. Harry just looked at her in disbelief.

** Dudley's mouth fell open in horror, but Harry's heart gave a leap. **

*cue questioning glances*

**Every year on Dudley's birthday, his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger restaurants, or the movies. Every year, Harry was left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry might not hate it as much as being at home with his uncle, but it was still awful. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she'd ever owned.**

*cue sympa –

"Will you stop _looking_ at me like that?"

** "Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he'd planned this. Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn't easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws, and Tufty again.**

"Harry!" admonished Lily, Molly, and Hermione together. They looked at each other, surprised.

** "We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested.**

** "Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy."**

"The feeling is more than mutual, trust me," spat Harry. Everyone looked at him in slight surprise. She must be truly awful to evoke such vehemence from Harry. Hermione, Ron, and Arthur started to remember a certain woman inflated at Privet Drive when Harry was 13.

** The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasn't there – or rather, as though he was something very nasty that couldn't understand them, like a slug.**

Bill snapped, "_They're _the slugs." Ron just turned slightly green at the reminder of his second year incident.

** "What about what's-her-name, your friend – Yvonne?"**

** "On vacation in Majorca," snapped Aunt Petunia.**

** "You could just leave me here," Harry put in hopefully (he'd be able to get first-aid supplies, and maybe watch what he wanted on television for a change).**

"Nice try, Harry."

** Aunt Petunia looked as though she'd just swallowed a lemon.**

** "And come back and find the house in ruins?" she snarled.**

** "I won't blow up the house," said Harry, but they weren't listening.**

"Of _course_ not," said Hermione scathingly.

** "I suppose we could take him to the zoo," said Aunt Petunia slowly, "…and leave him in the car…"**

"He's not a _dog_!" growled Ginny.

"Even if he _was_, he shouldn't be locked in a car! It can cause heat stroke, and loads of other issues!" protested Sirius indignantly. The whole room knew about his Animagus form, so no one reacted.

** "That car's new, the freak's not sitting in it alone…"**

"That awful, awful man!" yelled Lily. She _knew_ how much it hurt to be called a freak, years of experience with Petunia ever since her letter had taught her to _never_ call someone that unless you wanted them to be estranged from you forever… then again, she didn't think they could really be anymore estranged than they already were, by the sound of it.

** Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasn't really crying – it had been years since he really cried – but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted.**

The expression on Molly's face looked painful at this point.

** "Dinky Duddydums, don't cry, Mummy won't let him spoil your special day!" she cried, flinging her arms around him.**

Freed and George spluttered for a bit, then burst out in more hysterical laughter. "Oh, _Merlin_," they gasped. Ginny just smirked.

"Rather like when you say Jinky Ginnyjums, isn't it?" she said sweetly.

The gobsmacked expressions on the Twins faces were priceless.

** "I… don't… want… him… t-t-to come!" Dudley yelled between huge, pretend sobs. "He always sp-spoils everything!" He shot Harry a nasty grin from between his mother's arms.**

Molly was still rubbing her jaw from the facial contortion she had made at his earlier sign of spoiltness, so she didn't react except to show the anger in her eyes.

** Just then, the doorbell rang – "Oh, good Lord, they're here!" said Aunt Petunia frantically – and a moment later, Dudley's best friend, Piers Polkiss, walked in with his mother. Piers was a scrawny boy with a face like a rat. He was usually the one who held people's arms behind their backs while Dudley hit them. Dudley stopped pretending to cry at once.**

*eye rolls*

** Half an hour later, Harry, who couldn't believe his luck, **

"Trust me, I could believe it later," Harry muttered darkly.

**was sitting in the back of the Dursley's car with Piers and Dudley, on the way to the zoo for the first time in his life. His aunt and uncle hadn't been able to think of anything else to do with him, but before they'd left, Uncle Vernon had taken Harry aside.**

** "I'm warning you," he had said, grabbing Harry's arms tight enough to bruise and shaking him, his large purple face right up close to Harry's, "I'm warning you now, freak – any funny business, anything at all – and you'll get the beating of your life!"**

"WILL YOU STOP CATCHING THE BOOK ON FIRE?!" Harry shouted, putting out the flames himself this time. "This all happened SEVEN YEARS ago." Most had the good grace to look ashamed.

** "I'm not going to do anything," said Harry, "honestly…"**

** But Uncle Vernon didn't believe him. No one ever did.**

Harry clenched his hand subconsciously, the words _I must not tell lies_ as clear as ever.

** The problem was, strange things often happened around Harry and it was no use telling the Dursleys he didn't make them happen.**

"Well, you technically did," Hermione pointed out reasonably. Harry just glared at her.

** Once, Aunt Petunia, tired of Harry coming back from the barbers looking as though he hadn't been at all, had taken pair of kitchen scissors and cut his hair so short he was almost bald except for his bangs, which she left to "hide that horrible scar." Dudley had laughed himself silly at Harry, who spent a sleepless night imagining school the next day, where he was already laughed at for his baggy clothes and taped glasses. **

Draco glared at the book. That was _his_ job, the teasing part anyway, and it should not have been taken by some stupid Muggles.

**Next morning, however, he had gotten up to find his hair exactly as it had been before Aunt Petunia had sheared it off. He'd gotten his first "lesson in what he was really good for" for this and a week in his cupboard to boot. **

Tonks seemed unsure of how to ask, so she came out and said bluntly, "Were the lessons beatings?"

Harry hesitated. "…Sort of… I'm sure these …_delightful _books will clarify later on," he added when he saw her confused look. Then Harry, looking at the following sentence, swallowed and carried on quickly.

**He had tried to explain that he **_**couldn't**_** explain how it had grown back so quickly, but his uncle didn't listen as he'd kicked him hard enough to make him cough up blood.**

"That's it, I'm going to kill those arseholes!" James shouted along with Remus and Sirius, all standing up and drawing their wands.

"Still locked in."

"Right," they grumbled, sitting back down.

** Another time, Aunt Petunia had been trying to force him into a revolting old sweater of Dudley's (brown with orange puffballs). The harder she tried to pull it over his head, the smaller it seemed to become, until finally it might have fit a hand puppet, but certainly wouldn't fit Harry. Aunt Petunia had decided it must've shrunk in the wash and, to his great relief, he wasn't punished.**

"YAY!"

** On the other hand, he'd gotten into terrible trouble for being found on the roof of the school kitchens. **

"What kind of 'terrible trouble'?"

**Dudley's gang had been chasing him as usual when, as much to Harry's surprise as anyone else's, there he was sitting on the chimney. **

"You _apparated?"_

"No… I think I flew…"

**The Dursleys had received a very angry letter from Harry's headmistress telling them Harry had been climbing school buildings. But all he'd tried to do (as he'd shouted at Uncle Vernon whilst getting the belt) **

_Augumenti_ was becoming an automatic reaction.

**was jump behind the big trash cans outside the kitchen doors. Harry supposed the wind must've caught him in mid-jump. This wasn't much consolation for his throbbing back, though.**

_At least it didn't catch fire this time,_thought Harry with relief.

** But today, nothing was going to go wrong. **

"Don't jinx it," groaned Ronald.

**It was even worth being with Dudley and Piers to be spending the day somewhere that wasn't school, his cupboard, or Mrs. Figg's cabbage-smelling living room.**

** While he drove, Uncle Vernon complained to Aunt Petunia. He liked to complain about things: people at work, Harry, the council, Harry, the bank, and Harry were just a few of his favorite subjects. **

"Gee, Harry, he must-"

"-really like you if he talks about you so much." (Guess who said it. I dare you.)

**This morning, it was motorcycles.**

** "…roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums," he said, as a motorcycle overtook them.**

** "I had a dream about a motorcycle," said Harry, remembering suddenly. "It was flying."**

"Gods, you're even thicker than _Ron_ sometimes, Harry!"

** Uncle Vernon nearly crashed into the car in front. He turned right around in his seat and yelled at Harry, his face like a gigantic beet with a mustache: "MOTORCYCLES DON'T FLY!"**

** Dudley and Piers snickered.**

As did the rest of the room, imagining a beet with a mustache.

** Harry winced, knowing he would pay for that comment later. **

The laughter abruptly stopped.

"**I know they don't," he said. "It was only a dream."**

** But he still wished he hadn't said anything. If there was one thing the Dursleys hated even more than him asking questions, it was his talking about anything that acted in a way it shouldn't, no matter if it was a dream or even a cartoon – they seemed to think he might get dangerous ideas.**

_No,_ please Merlin, no_!_ thought Molly desperately when she caught the Twins smiling evilly at each other.

** It was a very sunny Saturday and the zoo was crowded with families. The Dursleys bought Dudley and Piers large chocolate ice creams and then, because the smiling lady in the van had asked Harry what he wanted before they could hurry him away, bought Harry a cheap lemon ice pop. **

"Oh, those are delicious, aren't they Harry?" said Dumbledore serenely.

**It wasn't bad, either, Harry thought, seeing as how Uncle Vernon probably wouldn't think about making him "pay" for a fifty pence treat. **

Yet more winces, frowns, and growls were added to the growing pile. (Use your imagination!)

**He licked it as they watched a gorilla scratching its head that looked remarkably like Dudley, except that it wasn't blonde.**

_What is up with them?_thought Harry. _My jokes really aren't that funny…_

** Harry had the best morning he could ever remember having. He was careful to walk a little way apart from the Dursleys so that a) he wouldn't be tempted to make a comment he'd later regret regarding comparisons between Dudley and the animals, **

A few good-natured chuckles were passed around.

**and b) so that Dudley and Piers wouldn't fall back on their favorite hobby of hitting him. **

And again, were abruptly cut off with a less-than-pleasant thought.

**They ate in the zoo restaurant, and when Dudley had a tantrum because his knickerbocker glory didn't have enough ice cream on top, Uncle Vernon bought him another one and Harry was able to get away with finishing the first.**

** Harry felt, afterward, that he should have known it was all too good to last.**

"Oh yes, getting a fifty-pence treat and getting away with sneaking leftover ice cream is _far_ too good a day," growled Lily.

** After lunch they went to the reptile house. It was cool and dark in there, with lit windows all along the walls. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone. **

Hermione looked thoughtful; she was remembering something Harry had told Ron and Hermione after they first went to the Dueling Club.

**Dudley and Piers wanted to see huge, poisonous cobras and thick, man-crushing pythons. Dudley quickly found the largest snake in the place. It could have wrapped its body twice around Uncle Vernon**

"Whoa-" (James)

"that snake's-" (Remus)

"HUGE!" (Sirius)

"Yeah, but I've seen bigger since," pointed out Harry.

'**s car **

"Oh, well, not _quite_ as impressive as we thought…" said Forge sadly.

**and crushed it into a trash can – but at the moment it didn't look in the mood. In fact, it was fast asleep.**

** Dudley stood with his nose pressed against the glass, staring at the glistening brown coils.**

** "Make it move," he whined at his father. Uncle Vernon tapped on the glass, but the snake didn't budge.**

** "Do it again," Dudley ordered. Uncle Vernon rapped the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozed on.**

** "This is boring," Dudley moaned. He shuffled away.**

** Harry moved in front of the tank and looked intently at the snake. He wouldn't have been surprised if it had died of boredom itself – no company except stupid people drumming their fingers on the glass trying to disturb it all day long. He couldn't decide which was worse, people gawking at you all day and bugging you without ever being able to leave, or being totally ignored in a dark cupboard all day, only coming out to do chores, go to school, get "lessons", or get beaten. At least he got to visit the rest of the house, even if it was to clean.**

Everyone had the same thought; _a caged snake actually has a better life than him._

** The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were on a level with Harry's.**

_**It winked.**_

"Snakes don't have eyelids," stated Lily in confusion. Harry started, realizing no one had told her about his thought-to-be-unique ability.

** Harry stared. Then he looked quickly around to see if anyone was watching. They weren't. He looked back at the snake and winked, too.**

"Only you," said Hermione, shaking her head.

** The snake jerked its head toward Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then raised its eyes to the ceiling. It gave Harry a look that said quite plainly:**

** "**_**I get that all the time.**_**"**

At this point, anyone not in the know was starting to look suspicious.

** "I know," Harry murmured through the glass, though he wasn't sure the snake could hear him. "It must be really annoying."**

** The snake nodded vigorously.**

"Are you a Parselmouth, Harry?" James whispered to him. Harry nodded warily, unsure if they would still accept him knowing that. He wasn't reassured when his father just nodded absently hearing that.

** "Where do you come from, anyway?" Harry asked.**

** The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next the glass. Harry peered at it.**

** Boa Constrictor, Brazil.**

The same thing Hermione had realized earlier seemed to suddenly strike Ron.

** "Was it nice there?"**

"He doesn't know, Harry, he's never been to Brazil," Ron jokingly scolded. Everyone but Dumbledore (who just doesn't react to most things), Hermione, and Harry (because they remember what he did) looked at him strangely, almost like they'd thought he'd completely lost it.

** The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and Harry read on: This specimen was bred in the zoo. "Oh, I see – so you've never been to Brazil?"**

The looks just got more incredulous.

** As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind Harry made both of them jump. "DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!"**

** Dudley came waddling toward them as fast as he could.**

** "Out of the way, freak," Dudley sneered, punching Harry in his already fractured ribs. **

Magic seemed to swirl in the air with the ferocity of the emotions. (A/N Just in case you're wondering, the Malfoys have such strong reactions because in the Wizarding World it was just wrong beyond belief for a child to be abused, no matter who you were. Very, very rarely a disappointed Pure-blood family may turn on a child, but as it would bring even more shame to a family for a child's magic to be useless as a result, they typically didn't.)

**Caught by surprise, Harry fell hard on his sore back **

_Okay, whatever charm was used to keep this thing from being ruined by fire is probably going to be worn off before we finish the book,_ Harry thought exasperatedly as he put out yet another one.

**onto the concrete floor. What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened – one second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back with howls of horror.**

** Harry sat up and gasped; the glass front of the boa constrictors tank had vanished. **

"That's impressive magic, Mr. Potter," said Professor McGonagall somewhat proudly. "You always did seem to have a knack for vanishing things."

Harry smiled at her for a moment before his face darkened and he scowled at the floor.

**The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits.**

** As the snake slid swiftly past, Harry could have sworn a low hissing voice said, "Brazil, here I come… Thanksss, amigo."**

_Surprisingly polite,_ noted Hermione, and unbeknownst to her, so did Molly, Lily, and, of all people, Ron.

** Harry's chest started filling with dread. Though he didn't know how he could have made glass disappear, he knew his Uncle Vernon would think differently – that somehow, Harry had done the whole thing on purpose. He was going to get punished so badly…**

Harry didn't even comment on the fire in his _head_, he was too used to it.

** The keeper of the reptile house was in shock.**

** "But the glass," he kept saying. "Where'd the glass go?"**

"Into non-being, which is to say, everything," synchronized Harry and Professor McGonagall. He just grinned at her surprised look.

** The zoo director himself made Aunt Petunia a cup of strong, sweet tea while he apologized over and over again. Piers and Dudley could only gibber. As far as Harry could see, the snake hadn't done anything except snap playfully at his heels as it had passed, but by the time they were all back in Uncle Vernon's car, Dudley was telling them how it had nearly bitten off his leg, while Piers was swearing it had tried to squeeze him to death. Harry's heart sank more and more with every outlandish story. Whatever they claimed, whether Uncle Vernon saw the truth or not, they would be believed and Harry would be punished accordingly. But worst of all, for Harry at least, was Piers calming down enough to say, "Harry was talking to it, weren't you Harry?"**

No one even commented, they were too busy plotting revenge or trying to ignore the blatant facts.

** Uncle Vernon waited until Piers was safely out of the house before rounding on Harry. He was so angry he could barely speak. He managed to choke out, "Go – spare room – **_**now**_**," before he collapsed into a chair, and Aunt Petunia had to run and get him a large brandy.**

"Why?" asked Hermione warily. Harry winced at her guessing the truth so quickly and kept reading, sure it would be there, since he had the worst – damn – luck – in – the – _world_.

** Harry was trembling at this point. He ran shakily up the stairs and stood in the middle of the spare room usually reserved for Aunt Marge. When a beating was expected to be particularly bloody, however, it happened in here because of the hard wood floor and dark blankets covering the bed. **

If a bystander had heard the words spewing out of the mouths of nearly every occupant of the Room, they would have wanted to wash their ears until they bled. As it was, everybody was too distracted to notice the slight quaver in Harry's voice as he read on.

**He could hear his uncle's heavy footsteps making their way up the stairs. Harry's chest seemed to constrict with fear as he listened to the (unfortunately) familiar sound.**

** Uncle Vernon's leering face appeared in the open doorway. He walked slowly, menacingly towards the small, shuddering child standing in the center of the torture chamber, closing the door behind him. It wasn't missed by Harry that his uncle's worst belt was in the man's large, meaty hands. As Uncle Vernon got closer, Harry flinched away automatically. Thus the worst punishment of Harry's life began.**

Harry quickly scanned the rest of the page, and his face turned an awful shade of green. "What's wrong Harry?" his mother whispered in his ear, trying to sooth him. Harry couldn't answer for fear he would be sick. He just shook his head and handed the book to Lily, unable to continue reading.

** His uncle hit Harry harshly on the side of the head, shoving him down to the floor. **

Harry was shuddering uncontrollably as the memories bombarded him. _His uncle's mad, sadistic eyes glinting at him, his throat filling with blood from his lungs, the aching memory of his uncle's fists, and all that followed…_

**Harry's legs crumpled beneath him from the force of the blow. The man kicked him in the legs and sides over and over, until Harry was certain every one of the hit bones were fractured.**

"They were," he murmured to no one in particular.

** Uncle Vernon snarled, "Shirt off, you stupid, runty little freak." **

Hermione's eyes narrowed, and she shot Harry a sharp look. His panicked gaze met her apprehensive brown eyes, and he silently begged her not to reveal what she had figured out. Her eyes widened in her worse fear being confirmed. She could only hope it wasn't described in detail.

Severus was staring blankly into empty space. _The feel of his father's hand against his skull, the sound of his father's zipper, the feeling of _filthiness _and_ impurity_ when _he_ was done with him… How could he have missed this? It was so obvious… _Why_ hadn't Harry just gone to someone, talked about it?_ However much he denied it, he knew exactly why; for the same reasons he himself hadn't done so.

**Harry pulled it off shakily revealing scars from thousands of other beatings and punishments. The man kicked him again, making Harry curl into a ball with his hands over his neck and his bare chest facing the floor, over his bent legs. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, waiting for the buckle to strike him. Then the blow came, harder than ever before. Harry bit back the scream that threatened to tear from his throat. If he made noise, it would just get worse, something he knew too well from years of experience. As the belt fell again and again, Harry faded in and out of consciousness. He could feel the blood streaming down his back, staining his skin with the precious crimson liquid.**

Percy looked green. He couldn't stand even thinking about blood, it made him sick…

** "Stand up, you freaky little bitch!" his uncle spat. "You're worth less than the dirt on my shoe, feel grateful I am taking the time to try to discipline you!" **

Severus' eyes widened at the similarity to his own earlier thought. James was fuming. It was harder to get him angry than it was for his wife, but his anger was a thousand times worse when released. "_Grateful?_" he hissed. Literally. Only Sirius, Remus, Lily, and Harry were unsurprised at this. The first three knew him well enough to have that information, and Harry because he actually didn't realize what his dad had done.

**Harry stood on quaking legs, feeling faint but paralyzed with terror. Blood was still dripping to the floor. The man struck him across the chest with the buckle, drawing yet more scarlet fluid from the pale boy. He forced the child up against the wall, pinning him there by his throat and punching him in the gut with brutal force.**

Harry was curled up in a ball and silently sobbing, unable to escape from his terrifying memories. Lily and James began rubbing his back, even as she was reading the horrible scene. The other 2/3 of the Golden trio and Ginny ran over to comfort him, the latter kissing his forehead and running her hand through his hair. This seemed to calm him, but only just.

** "Do you wish you were dead yet?" his uncle hissed at him. Harry wouldn't have replied even if he was able to past the blood rising in his throat. "You will wish you had died along with your drunk, freak parents when I'm through with you, boy." His uncle pushed him to the floor by his bony hips, kneeling down beside him and beating him with his fist. His throat finally free, blood began streaming out of his mouth, Harry coughing to try to breathe. Harry knew what was going to happen, knew that he wouldn't be able to stop it, and was thankful when unconsciousness overtook him so he wouldn't have to witness it. However, the knowledge of what was to come made him shiver before he sunk into the blackness.**

"There was more?"questioned James, pale with anger at the thought of this sick _monster_ hurting his little boy.

** Harry lay in his dark cupboard in the early hours of the next morning, having finally regained consciousness. He felt awful (mentally and physically) after each and every one of his punishments, but something about this one stuck with him…**

"I'll keep reading now, Mum," Harry said, to the surprise off everyone in the room. He was still deathly pale, but she didn't question him before handing over the book. She didn't know if she could read anymore, not after that…

** One of the questions his uncle had asked him kept reverberating through his head. **_**Do you wish you were dead yet?**_** That question kept coming back to him. Nobody, not even his uncle, had ever asked him that before last night, and… he just didn't know. **

The very _air_ in the room seemed to go still.

**He just didn't know whether he wanted to live or die. This life was awful – did he really want to live more than eight more years in it? He truly wanted a better life, yes, but he knew that wouldn't come. A freak like him didn't deserve it.**

"You deserve happiness, Harry…" Sirius said, unusually subdued. _If I hadn't gone after that stupid rat, I could have been there for him, he wouldn't have had to go through that._

** He'd lived with the Dursleys almost ten years, ten miserable years, as long as he could remember, ever since he'd been a baby and his parents had died in that car crash. **

Need I say what happened to the poor, poor book?

**He couldn't remember being in the car when his parents had died. Sometimes, when he strained his memory during long days in the cupboard, he came up with a strange vision: a blinding flash of green light and a burning pain on his forehead. This, he supposed, was the crash, though he couldn't imagine where all the green light came from. He couldn't remember his parents at all. His aunt and uncle never spoke about them, and of course he was forbidden to ask questions. **

Growls were heard at this reminder.

**There were no photographs of them in the house.**

** When he had been younger, Harry had dreamed and dreamed of some unknown relation coming to take him away, but it had never happened; the Dursleys were his only living family. **

Remus and Sirius were both overwhelmed by guilt. _If I could have taken you, I would have…_

**Yet sometimes he thought (or maybe hoped) that strangers in the street seemed to know him. Very strange strangers they were, too. A tiny man in a violet top hat had bowed to him once while out shopping with Aunt Petunia and Dudley. After asking Harry furiously if he knew the man, Aunt Petunia had rushed them out of the shop without buying anything. A wild-looking old woman dressed in all green had waved merrily at him once on a bus. A bald man in a very long purple coat had actually shaken his hand in the street the other day then walked away without a word. The weirdest thing about all these people was the way they seemed to vanish the second Harry tried to get a closer look.**

"If it was so easy for all these wizards and witches to just stumble upon him, how could he be safe?" Bill asked.

"No wizard or witch wishing him harm would have been able to get anywhere near him," Dumbledore whispered.

** At school, Harry had no one. Everybody knew that Dudley's gang hated that odd Harry Potter in his baggy old clothes and broken glasses, and nobody liked to disagree with Dudley's gang.**

"Augumenti."

** Harry finally came to a conclusion; while he didn't want to live, he didn't particularly want to die either. **

Pangs of sadness ran through all of their hearts.

**He supposed he would just wait until his uncle actually carried out all those death threats, or if they accidently starved him to death (he didn't get meals when he was locked in his cupboard). **

Harry was getting so good at the Water charm that he could do it soundlessly.

**He had no doubt that he wouldn't survive his years with the Dursleys, but he wasn't about to speed up the process either. With that actually somewhat comforting thought, he fell back into his sub-conscious.**


	4. Chapter 3- The Letters From No One

Disclaimer: I _still_ don't own anything you recognize. _Weird_, huh?

A/N The last chapter didn't really work out how I wanted it. Also, Luna will be in this chapter! Yay! BTW, how should I bring Neville in? Or should he just not be here at all? Review and tell me, please!

Harry's hands were trembling as he put the book – which he now _hated _– back on the table, page-down. He shrunk back and stared at the floor. Hundreds, no, _thousands_ of thoughts were screaming around each other, around and around, making his head pound with the dreaded words.

_They know, they know, they know they know they know theyknow theyknowtheyKNOW!_

No, they couldn't know, all of his efforts over the years, every hidden gasp of pain, every nervous flinch away from an adult explained away, all for _nothing._ _Nothing._

His green-eyed stare stayed connected with the floor. He didn't feel like he could look up and meet their pitying looks, or worse, would they be regretful? The more he thought about it, he more he was sure. How could they not regret wasting years of their lives with him, a freak, worthless? Even worse – some of them had _died_ because of him – and for him. Sure, they were back for now, but no one knew if they could stay, and this wasn't even all of them. Harry finally lifted his eyes to his friends and family. He flinched away from their concerned gazes.

"Harry," whispered Sirius. "Why didn't you ever tell anyone?" The shock was wearing off, so he finally was able to think about it. His thoughts were swirling. Weren't they close enough for Harry to feel comfortable telling him about this, to get help from him? The obvious answer crushed him. He had failed Harry more than he thought. Little did he know the same thoughts were running through the minds of Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Remus, the Weasley parents.

"Because."

"Harry, _please…_"

Only stony silence greeted him.

"Just promise… you won't think like that from now on, okay?" Sirius pleaded. He couldn't bear thinking about his godson ending his life, he wouldn't be able to cope with it.

"Again… seven years ago. And just to warn you, that won't be the last time the books will go over it." The second sentence was far quieter than the first, but everyone could still hear it.

Draco cleared his throat. He didn't want to hear about the perfect Golden Boy thinking… that. He was supposed to have everything handed to him on a silver platter, not struggle with whether or not to commit suicide. Besides that, he was still incredibly furious with those muggles. Who were they to beat up a wizard? They should be bowing to wizards! "Could we please continue?" he asked in clipped tones.

"Yes, please, can we?" Harry asked. He had never thought he'd be agreeing with the Slytherin Prince, but he'd do anything do get out of these questions he had no intention of answering.

"I'll read," James said reluctantly. He didn't really want to hear about his son's abuse, but he could see how uncomfortable Harry was with this situation, and no one else was volunteering. He picked up the book and began to read aloud:

**Chapter Three**

**The Letters from No One**

** The escape of the Brazilian boa constrictor earned Harry his longest-ever cupboard stay, not to mention his most frequent beatings and lessons. **

Growls were heard around the room, and James voice was cold.

**By the time he was allowed out of his cupboard again, the summer holidays had started**

"When is Dudley's birthday Harry?" Hermione said in a deadly whisper.

"Er… April… 14th, I think?" said Harry uncertainly.

"THEY KEPT YOU IN THAT CUPBOARD WITH NO FOOD FOR TWO MONTHS?!" Mrs. Weasley exploded.

"They fed me some," reacted Harry defensively.

"How much?" she demanded.

Harry hesitated, unwilling to answer, but wanting to get it over with. "Every couple weeks, or so. Really, not much less than normal."

Molly was taking deep breaths and counting to ten over and over and over.

**and Dudley had already broken his new video camera, crashed his remote control airplane, and, first time out on his racing bike, knocked down old Mrs. Figg as she crossed Privet Drive on her crutches.**

Mrs. Weasley was unable to withhold a shriek of anger at this new reminder of that child's insolence.

** Harry was glad school was over, (it gave him more time to finish his chores, thus resulting in fewer punishments) but there was no escaping Dudley's gang, who visited the house every single day. Piers, Dennis, Malcolm, and Gordon were all big and stupid, but as Dudley was the biggest and stupidest of the lot, he was the leader. **

"Sound logic," James snorted, interrupting himself.

**The rest of them were quite happy to join in on Dudley's favorite sport: Harry Hunting.**

"I don't believe Madam Pince would be happy with you calling that a sport, Harry," Luna's dreamy voice suddenly came from behind the cushy sofas, startling the whole room.

"Luna!" exclaimed Ginny. "How long have you been here?"

"Oh, I was here the whole time," she said with the same faraway air.

"How did you get in here?" Hermione asked incredulously.

Luna just smiled, popping her head out from behind the couch. "I got a little note while I was watching the trolls on the tapestry, they are really quite friendly, I like them much better than real trolls."

Shaking his head, James read on.

** This was one of the biggest reasons Harry spent as much time as possible out of the house – even though this wasn't a lot of time with his chores and all – wandering around thinking about the end of holidays, where he could see a tiny ray of hope. When September came he would be going off to secondary school and, for the first time in his life, he wouldn't be with Dudley. Dudley had been accepted to Uncle Vernon's old private school, Smeltings. **

"What kind of –" Gred started.

"—name is –" Forge continued seamlessly.

"—_that_?" they finished.

Harry decided that now wasn't the best time to point out that their school was named after a pig with a skin condition.

**Piers Polkiss was going there too. Harry, on the other hand, was going to Stonewall High, the local public school. Dudley thought this was very funny.**

** "They stuff people's head down the toilet the first day at Stonewall," he told Harry. "Want to come upstairs and practice?"**

James suddenly let out a short, loud laugh, reading the next sentence. Harry kept a poker face while internally smiling, remembering his response.

** "No, thanks," said Harry. "The poor toilets never had anything as horrible as your head down it – it might be sick." Then he ran before Dudley could figure out what he'd said.**

"I didn't need to run – he still hasn't," Harry said, smiling at the Twins ridiculous gales of laughter.

** One day in July, Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to buy his Smeltings uniform, leaving Harry at Mrs. Figg's. Mrs. Figg wasn't as bad as usual. It turned out she'd broken her leg tripping over one of her cats, and she didn't seem quite as fond of them as before. She let Harry watch television and gave him a bit of chocolate cake that tasted as though she'd had it for several years.**

Remus had a look of horror on his face at the apparent mistreatment of chocolate.

Hermione was curious (naturally). "What show did you watch?"

"The first season of Seinfeld, they were having a marathon," Harry said with a smile, remembering.

** That evening, Dudley paraded around the living room for the family in his brand-new uniform. Smeltings' boys wore maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers, and flat straw hats called boaters. **

"Ew. I'm not even that fashion-conscious, but… no. Just… no," said Ginny, shaking her head.

**They also carried knobbly sticks, used for hitting each other while the teachers weren't looking. This was supposed to be good training for later in life.**

Moody snorted. _Training. I'll show them trai- CONSTANT VIGILANCE!_

** As he looked at Dudley in his new knickerbockers, Uncle Vernon said gruffly that this was the proudest moment of his life.**

"Of course, that _would_ be."

**Aunt Petunia burst into tears and said she couldn't believe it was her Ickle Dudleykins, **

Ron turned towards the twins and let out an 'innocent' cough, which sounded suspiciously like "Ickle Ronniekins."

The Twins paled at the reminder.

_How could we be –_

— _anything like her? _finished George horrified-ly. Yeah, they even finish each other's thoughts. Problem?

**he looked so handsome and grown-up. Harry didn't trust himself to speak. He thought two of his ribs might have already cracked from trying not to laugh.**

No one else had that issue now – though their ribs may have possibly cracked from laughing so hard.

** There was a horrible smell in the kitchen the next morning when Harry went to make breakfast. It seemed to be coming from a large metal tub in the sink. He went to have a look. The tub was full of what looked like dirty rags swimming in the dirty grey water.**

** "****What's this?" he asked Aunt Petunia. Her lips tightened as they always did if he dared to ask a question, or at least since the first one.**

"So you weren't hurt for questions after that?" asked Hermione half-hopefully, but not truly believing it.

Harry was a little taken aback by her unusual bluntness, but quickly answered. "Not by her," he said, honesty clear in his voice.

** "****Your new school uniform," she said.**

** Harry looked in the bowl again. ****"****Oh," he said, "I didn't realize it had to be so wet."**

Lily looked at her son in disbelief. "You lived with that – _woman _ for nearly ten years, and you didn't know she didn't get sarcasm?"

** "****Don't be stupid," snapped Aunt Petunia, glaring at him as though she didn't think that was possible. "I'm dying some of Dudley's old things grey for you. It'll look just like everyone else's when I've finished."**

Ron snorted. "I seriously doubt that."

** Harry seriously doubted this, **

Harry winked at him. "Great minds think alike, eh Ron?"

"Got that right," he replied with a grin.

The girls rolled their eyes at their antics.

**but thought it best not to argue. He sat down at the table and tried not to think about how he was going to look on his first day at Stonewall High – like he was wearing bits of old elephant skin, probably.**

** Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in, both with wrinkled noses because of the smell from Harry's new uniform. **

"You're the ones too cheap and too proud to buy him an actual uniform," said Molly scathingly. She might not be able to buy her children everything new, but the Dursleys clearly did not have that issue, and at least she made sure all her children had what they really needed

** Uncle Vernon opened his newspaper as usual and Dudley banged his Smelting stick, which he carried everywhere, on the table. **

** They heard the click of the mail slot and the flop of letters on the doormat.**

** "****Get ****the**** mail, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon from behind his paper.**

That woke everybody up.

"He made that fat—" (Sirius)

"— Lump of lard –" (James)

"Actually do something?"(Remus)

** "****Make Harry get it."**

** "****Get the mail, Harry."**

"So much for _that_…"

** "****Make Dudley get it."**

Several looks of disbelief were thrown at him.

"What?" Harry demanded.

** "****Poke him with your Smelting stick, Dudley."**

** Harry dodged the Smelting stick easily and went to get the mail. Three things lay on the doormat: a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister Marge, who was vacationing on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a bill, and – **_**a letter for Harry**_**. **

** Harry picked it and stared at it, his heart twanging like a giant elastic band. **

"That sounds painful, actually."

** No one, ever, in his whole life, had written to him. Who would? **

Molly cast a not-so-subtle glance at her youngest, which no one missed. Ginny's ears were the famous Weasley red.

** He had no friends, no other relatives – he didn't belong to the library, **

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but seemed to rethink it.

**so he'd never even got rude notes asking for books back. Yet here it was, a letter, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake:**

_** Mr. H. Potter**_

_** The Cupboard under the Stairs **_

_** 4 Privet Drive**_

_** Little Whinging**_

_** Surrey**_

There was dead silence for minute, and all eyes in the room went to Minerva.

"We- we use a self- addressing quill, I swear I had no idea…"

** The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink.**

A certain bushy-haired someone looked thoughtful at that. "Why doesn't the Wizarding World use paper, or pens for that matter?"

Professor Dumbledore answered. "As for the parchment, it is more durable, and the difficulty of manufacturing wouldn't affect us, as we need not do more than conjure it. We don't use pens for the opposite reason. It would be more difficult to conjure a pen than a simple feather because it is more complicated, and although one fairly talented would be able to pull it off without much effort, it becomes habit."

Hermione looked satisfied.

** There was no stamp.**

"What is that?" Draco asked with less of a sneer than he would have liked.

Arthur looked eager, no matter he was talking to a Malfoy. "They are little sticky pieces of paper Muggles put on their envelopes to pay for postage costs." Harry suppressed a laugh, remembering when a letter came from the Weasleys before fourth year.

** Turning the envelope over, his hand trembling, Harry saw a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter **_**H. **_

** "****Hurry up, boy!" shouted Uncle Vernon from the kitchen. "What are you doing, checking for letter bombs?" He chuckled at his own joke.**

All of the pranksters shuddered at the thought of _that_ being considered a joke.

** Harry went back to the kitchen, still staring at his letter. **

Hermione, Ron, and Harry shared an amused glance, thinking about when Harry told them the story of his uncle going insane. The tension was as low as it was going to get, and Harry was relaxing enough to laugh as though nothing was wrong.

**He handed Uncle Vernon the bill and the postcard, sat down, and slowly began to open the yellow envelope. Uncle Vernon ripped open the bill, snorted in disgust, and flipped over the postcard.**

** "****Marge's ill," he informed Aunt Petunia. "Ate a funny whelk..."**

_Thank Merlin_ thought Harry darkly, his levity disappearing without a trace.

**"****Dad!" said Dudley suddenly. "Dad, Harry's got something!"**

** Harry was on the point of unfolding his letter, which was written on the same heavy parchment as the envelope, when it was jerked sharply out of his hand by Uncle Vernon.**

** "****That's **_**mine**_**!" said Harry, trying to snatch it back.**

"Are you sure you really meant it when you said you didn't want to die, Potter, or did you secretly have a death wish?" snapped Snape. He didn't really care—of course not, he couldn't care about the boy, not in any manner possible—but the boy acting so insolent when his life could really be on the line was just too much.

Harry looked at Severus evenly for a minute before responding. "I didn't want to take my own life, but I wasn't just going to put my head down and ignore them, whether it sped up my probable death or not. Besides," added Harry with a wry smile, "I tend to act even more… strong-willed …when I know that my life is really in danger." Lily gave her husband a nervous look when she heard her son say that.

Severus returned the even look Harry had given him and nodded quickly.

** "****Who'd be writing to you?" sneered Uncle Vernon, shaking the letter open with one hand and glancing at it. His face went from red to green faster than a set of traffic lights. And it didn't stop there. Within seconds it was the grayish white of old porridge. **

** "****P-P-Petunia!" he gasped.**

"Melodramatic much?" observed Sirius.

** Dudley tried to grab the letter to read it, but Uncle Vernon held it high out of his reach. Aunt Petunia took it curiously and read the first line. For a moment it looked as though she might faint. She clutched her throat and made a choking noise.**

**"****Vernon! Oh my goodness – Vernon!"**

"I rest my case."

"Again, not a _single person_ disagreed with you!"

The Twins were just snickering.

"That could sound _so _wrong…" said Fred, shaking with laughter.

"_Vernon! Oh my g…"_ George tried and failed to mimic it, breaking down with laughter.

Harry's face turned an ugly shade of green, which luckily for him no one saw.

** They stared at each other, seeming to have forgotten that Harry and Dudley were still in the room. Dudley wasn't used to being ignored. He gave his father a sharp tap on the head with his Smelting stick.**

The Weasleys all got looks of horror on their faces, glancing at their father, all thinking the same thing. _What would happen if _we_ tried that?_

** "****I want to read that letter," he said loudly.**

** "**_**I**_** want to read it," said Harry furiously, "as it's **_**mine**_**."**

"Good point, that," said Tonks mockingly. "Why didn't I think of it?"

** "****Get out, both of you," croaked Uncle Vernon, stuffing the letter back inside its envelope.**

** Harry didn't move.**

** "****I WANT MY LETTER!" he shouted.**

" The Evans Temper…" said Sirius in mock fear, trying to lighten the tension present

** "****Let **_**me**_** see it!" demanded Dudley.**

** "****Out!" roared Uncle Vernon, and he took both Harry and Dudley by the scruffs of their necks and threw them into the hall, slamming the kitchen door behind them. Harry and Dudley promptly had a furious but silent fight over who would listen at the keyhole; **

"Fight, fight, fight!" yelled George.

"You can take him, Harry!"

"… should I be worried that they're talking to a book …about something that happened seven years ago?" asked Harry uncertainly. A new note fell out of the… er, nowhere, I guess.

You should be worried if most people don't talk to it at least once.

As Harry read the note bemusedly, the Twins continued chanting. Harry and Ron both coughed—something which sounded like "Seven years ago!" and "450 pounds heavier than him!", respectively.

**Dudley won, so Harry, his glasses dangling from one ear, lat flat on his stomach to listen at the crack between the door and floor.**

** "****Vernon," Aunt Petunia was saying in a quivering voice, "look at the address – how could they possibly know where he sleeps? You don't think they're watching the house?"**

** "****Watching – spying – might be following us," muttered Uncle Vernon wildly.**

** "****But what should we do, Vernon? Should we write back? Tell them we don't want -"**

** Harry could see Uncle Vernon's shiny black shoes pacing up and down the kitchen.**

** "****No," he said finally. "No, we'll ignore it. If they don't get an answer... Yes, that's best... we won't do anything..."**

** "****But - "**

** "****I'm not having one in the house, Petunia! Didn't we swear when we took him in we'd stamp out that dangerous nonsense?"**

Albus' eyes darkened. _Stamp out, indeed._

** That evening when he got back from work, Uncle Vernon did something he'd never done before; he visited Harry in his cupboard.**

"Well, he tried, but he didn't fit."

** "****Where's my letter?" said Harry, the moment Uncle Vernon had squeezed through the door.**** "****Who's writing to me?" **

"Beat around the bush, why don't ya?" muttered Ron, clearly wanting to laugh at his bluntness, but sensing with an unusual amount of tact that this probably wasn't the time.

** "****No one. It was addressed to you by mistake," said Uncle Vernon shortly. "I have burned it."**

** "****It was **_**not**_** a mistake," said Harry angrily, "it had my cupboard on it."**

** "****SILENCE!" yelled Uncle Vernon, his arm tensing up in a far too familiar way, but not acting upon the urge, a welcome change. A couple of spiders fell from the ceiling.**

** He took a few deep breaths and then forced his face into a smile, which looked quite painful.**

"Hope it was," grumbled Hermione.

** "****Er – yes, Harry **

"He used my name," gasped Harry dramatically. "I hadn't thought he'd known it.

– **about this cupboard. Your Aunt and I have been thinking... you're really getting a bit big for it... we think it might be nice if you moved into Dudley's second bedroom."**

** "****Why?" said Harry.**

** "****Don't ask questions!" snapped his uncle, finally backhanding him. "Take this stuff upstairs, now." His uncle seemed to regret hitting him. Something he said while he had been eaves dropping occurred to him. **_**Watching – spying – might be following us… **_**He was worried about getting caught! He was elated, and not just because of getting a bedroom.**

** The Dursleys' house had four bedrooms: **

"Four… _cupboard…_" Bill started to grumble. He might not know Harry quite as well as most of his siblings, but he did know him well enough to care.

**one for Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, one for visitors (Harry tended to call it the 'multipurpose room'), one where Dudley slept, and one where Dudley kept all the toys and things that wouldn't fit into his first bedroom. It only took Harry one trip upstairs to move everything he owned from the cupboard to this room. He sat down on the bed and stared around him. Nearly everything in here was broken. The month-old video camera was lying on top of a small, working tank Dudley had once driven over the next door neighbor's dog; **

"Sirius, it's okay, calm down!" exclaimed an alarmed Remus, to the person currently growling and snarling quietly at the book.

**in the corner was Dudley's first-ever television set, which he'd put his foot through when his favorite program had been canceled; there was a large birdcage, which had once held a parrot that Dudley had swapped at school for a real air rifle, which was up on a shelf with the end all bent because Dudley had sat on it. **

Hermione giggled tensely. It wasn't really funny, but those were _really _strong…

** Other shelves were full of books. They were the only things in the room that looked as though they'd never been touched.**

The giggles abruptly ended. Instead, she looked scandalized.

Noticing her reaction, Ron tried to soothe her. "Relax, Hermione, feel relieved for the books that Dudley's grubby fingers were never touching them!"

** From downstairs came the sound of Dudley bawling at his mother, "I don't **_**want**_** him in there... I **_**need**_** that room... make him get out..."**

** Harry sighed and stretched out on the bed. Yesterday he'd have given anything to be up here. Today he'd rather be back in his cupboard with that letter than up here without it.**

"Call me greedy, but I'd want both," joked Charlie, trying to ease the tension. It failed miserably, but still, he tried.

** Next morning at breakfast, everyone was rather quiet. Dudley was in shock. He'd screamed, whacked his father with his Smelting stick, been sick on purpose, kicked his mother, and thrown his tortoise through the greenhouse roof, and he still didn't have his room back. **

"Thank Merlin!" Molly exclaimed.

** Harry was thinking about this time yesterday and bitterly wishing he'd opened the letter in the hall. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia kept looking at each other darkly. **

** When the mail arrived, Uncle Vernon, who seemed to be trying to be nice to Harry, made Dudley go and get it. They heard him banging things with his Smelting stick all the way down the hall. Then he shouted, "There's another one! 'Mr. H. Potter, The Smallest Bedroom, 4 Privet Drive -"**

** With a strangled cry, Uncle Vernon leapt from his seat and ran down the hall, Harry right behind him. Uncle Vernon had to wrestle Dudley to the ground to get the letter from him, which was made difficult by the fact that Harry had grabbed Uncle Vernon around the neck from behind. **

Ron started, and then laughed. "Guess you got some practice, eh Harry?" he teased.

Harry laughed too, remembering the troll from first year. "It was harder to do that Uncle Vernon; he's fatter."

Hermione being the only one with any clue as to what they were thinking of, most of the room made a silent decision to ignore them since they had no idea what the hell was going through their heads.

** After a minute of confused fighting, in which everyone got hit a lot by the Smelting stick, Uncle Vernon straightened up, gasping for breath, with Harry's letter clutched in his hand.**

** "****Go to your cupboard – I mean, your bedroom," he wheezed at Harry. "Dudley – go – just go."**

** Harry walked round and round his new room. Someone knew he had moved out of his cupboard and they seemed to know he hadn't received his first letter. Surely that meant they'd try again? And this time he'd make sure they didn't fail. He had a plan.**

"Oh no!" gasped Hermione and Ron together. Harry mocked glared at them, fully aware his plans had a tendency to go awry.

** The repaired alarm clock rang at six o'clock the next morning. Harry turned it off quickly and dressed silently. He mustn't wake the Dursleys. He stole downstairs without turning on any lights. **

** He was going to wait for the postman on the corner of Privet Drive and get the letters for number four first. **

"Alright, not a terrible plan…" admitted Ron, "but it is frightfully obvious, mate."

"Don't I know it," muttered Harry.

** His heart hammered as he crept across the dark hall toward the front door - **

** "****AAAAARRRGH!" **

** Harry leapt into the air; he'd trodden on something big and squashy on the doormat – something **_**alive**_**!**

** Lights clicked on upstairs and to his horror Harry realized that the big, squashy something had been his uncle's face. Uncle Vernon had been lying at the foot of the front door in a sleeping bag, clearly making sure that Harry didn't do exactly what he'd been trying to do. He smacked Harry across the face, but then looked around nervously, as though he was worried somebody saw. He shouted at Harry for about half an hour to make up for the rest of the beating he was seemingly too scared to deliver. He then ordered him to go make a cup of tea. Harry shuffled half-miserably, half-relieved off into the kitchen and by the time he got back, the mail had arrived, right into Uncle Vernon's lap. Harry could see three letters addressed in green ink.**

** "****I want -" he began, but Uncle Vernon was tearing the letters into pieces before his eyes.**

** Uncle Vernon didn't go to work that day. He stayed at home and nailed up the mail slot.**

** "****See," he explained to Aunt Petunia through a mouthful of nails, "if they can't **_**deliver**_** them they'll just give up."**

** "****I'm not sure that'll work, Vernon."**

** "****Oh, these people's minds work in strange ways, Petunia, they're not like you and me," said Uncle Vernon, trying to knock a nail with a piece of fruitcake Aunt Petunia had just brought him.**

"Thank Merlin for that," sneered Lucius, startling everyone, as he had been silent up until that point. The good peop- excuse me, everyone but- oh, what the hell, we all know it. The one's who had fought for the side of the light (better way to put it, I guess) glared at him before ignoring the idiot. (Although, they were definitely all glad that they didn't think like him, internally, the aristocratic pure-blood had meant it as a far less specific statement.)

** On Friday, no less than twelve letters arrived for Harry. As they couldn't go through the mail slot they had been pushed under the door, slotted through the sides, and a few even forced through the small window in the downstairs bathroom.**

"Scared the living daylights out of Aunt Petunia too," said Harry, shaking his head regretfully, "though I can't honestly say the one who delivered him was any less shocked."

The Twins and the Marauders couldn't suppress snorts of laughter. The rest of the room controlled their faces better.

** Uncle Vernon stayed at home again. After burning all the letters, he got out a hammer and nails and boarded up the cracks around the front and back doors so no could go out. He hummed "Tiptoe Through the Tulips" as he worked, and jumped at small noises.**

"He went even more insane, then," mused Lily.

"You're telling me?"

** On Saturday, things began to get out of hand. **

Twenty-two pairs of eyes stared at Harry incredulously.

"Began?" said Minerva.

** Twenty-four letters to Harry found their way into the house, rolled up and hidden inside each of the two-dozen eggs that their very confused milkman had handed Aunt Petunia through the living room window. **

Dumbledore chuckled good-naturedly. "Getting rather insistent, are we?" he chided a faintly pink (but proud) Minerva.

"Well I couldn't just sit back and let him not get his Hogwarts letter," defended said professor with a small smile.

** While Uncle Vernon made furious telephone calls to the post office and the dairy trying to find someone to complain to, **

_That'd be an interesting conversation to overhear_ thought the bibliophile of the bunch.

**Aunt Petunia shredded the letters in her food processor.**

** "****Who on earth wants to talk to**_** you**_** this badly?" Dudley asked Harry in amazement. **

Eye rolls ensued.

** On Sunday morning, Uncle Vernon sat down at the breakfast table looking tired and rather ill, but happy. (Never a good thing)**

** "****No post on Sundays,"**

James paused, read the rest of the sentence to himself, and started snickering. Several people looked irritated, but relieved. If he was snickering, nothing bad would happen in the immediate future of the book. As he continued to laugh, everyone's patience began to wear thin. Lily's temper snapped first.

"James, just read the book and stop GIGGLING for Merlin's sake!"

He shut up abruptly, but looked indignant. "I do not _giggle,_ I chuckle. Definite difference…" his voice trailed off as he found his place in the book again.

**he reminded them cheerfully as he spread marmalade on his newspapers, **

"That was the only reason you _giggled_," Lily emphasized the word, "for 60 seconds straight while everyone was waiting for you to read the book?"Her irritated telling-off was far less effective while the rest of the room was chuckling/giggling/ whatever the heck you prefer, albeit for not nearly as long.

**"no damn letters today -"**

** Something came whizzing down the kitchen chimney as he spoke and caught him sharply on the back of the head. Next moment, thirty or forty letters came pelting out of the fireplace like bullets. The Dursleys ducked, but Harry leapt into the air trying to catch one -**

** "****Out! OUT!" **

** Uncle Vernon seized Harry around the waist and threw him into the hall. When Aunt Petunia and Dudley had run out with their arms over their faces, Uncle Vernon slammed the door shut. They could hear the letters still streaming into the room, bouncing off the walls and floor.**

** "****That does it," said Uncle Vernon, trying to speak calmly but pulling great tufts out of his mustache at the same time. "I want you all back here in five minutes ready to leave. We're going away. Just pack some clothes. No arguments!"**

** He looked so dangerous with half his mustache missing that no one dared argue.**

"Why would half of his mustache missing make him look dangerous?" interjected Ron, with a funny-looking bemused look on his face.

** Ten minutes later they had wrenched their way through boarded-up doors and were in the car, speeding toward the highway. Dudley was sniffling in the back seat; his father had hit him around the head for holding them up while he tried to pack his television, VCR, and computer in his sports bag.**

** They drove. And they drove. Even Aunt Petunia didn't dare ask where they were going. Every now and then Uncle Vernon would take a sharp turn and drive in the opposite direction for a while.**

Severus opened his mouth as though he wanted to ask what in the bloody hell that fat muggle was doing, but closed it quickly. No doubt the answer was about to come, and if there was one thing he despised, it was asking pointless questions.

** "****Shake'em off... shake'em off," he would mutter whenever he did this.**

See?

** They didn't stop to eat or drink all day. By nightfall Dudley was howling. He'd never had such a bad day in his life. He was hungry, he'd missed five television programs he'd wanted to see, and he'd never gone so long without blowing up an alien on his computer.**

_Makes me wonder what he would do in my place… _thought Harry darkly. He was immediately ashamed of the thought. While Dudley had never been kind to him, he wouldn't wish his childhood on anyone, no matter how mean they were.

** Uncle Vernon stopped at last outside a gloomy-looking hotel on the outskirts of a big city. Dudley and Harry shared a room with twin beds and damp, musty sheets. Dudley snored but Harry stayed awake, sitting on the windowsill, staring down at the lights of passing cars and wondering...**

"About what?" interrupted Nymphadora. Yes, yes, she goes by 'Tonks' but that's not her last name anymore, so…

Harry though back. "Everything, I suppose."

Yeah, way to be specific, Harry.

** They-meaning the Dursleys-ate stale cornflakes and cold tinned tomatoes on toast for breakfast****the next day. They had just finished when the owner of the hotel came over to their table.**

** "'****Scuse me, but is one of you Mr. H. Potter? Only I got about a 'undred of these at the front desk."**

** She held up a letter so they could read the green ink address:**

_** Mr. H. Potter**_

_** Room 17 **_

_** Railview Hotel**_

_** Cokeworth**_

** Harry made a grab for the letter but Uncle Vernon knocked his hand out of the way. The woman stared.**

"Wonder why," commented Harry dryly. "The 500 pound walrus, the Incredible Horse Lady, or the baby whale?"

"Or maybe a grown man smacking a child's arm away from a letter," said James, too quietly for anyone to hear. He could already tell this book would be extremely difficult to get through, despite the moments of levity.

**"****I'll take them," said Uncle Vernon, standing up quickly and following her from the dining room.**

** "****Wouldn't it be better just to go home, dear?" Aunt Petunia suggested timidly, hours later, but Uncle Vernon didn't seem to hear her.**

** Exactly what he was looking for, none of them knew. He drove them into the middle of a forest, got out, looked around, shook his head, got back in the car, and off they went again. The same thing happened in the middle of a plowed field, halfway across a suspension bridge, and at the top of a multilevel parking garage.**

** "****Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?" Dudley asked Aunt Petunia dully late that afternoon.**

"No, Dudley, this is completely normal behavior, to drive around the country, stop in random places, and mutter to oneself," Remus rolled his eyes.

** Uncle Vernon had parked at the coast, locked them all inside the car, and disappeared. It started to rain. Great drops beat on the roof of the car. Dudley sniveled.**

** "****It's Monday," he told his mother. "The Great Humberto's on tonight. I want to stay somewhere with a **_**television**_**."**

** Monday. This reminded Harry of something. If it **_**was**_** Monday – and you could usually count on Dudley to know the days of the week, because of television – then tomorrow, Tuesday, was Harry's eleventh birthday.**

"Happy Birthday Harry!" cheered most of the room.

Harry offered a small smile. "It was actually the first half-way decent birthday I could remember."

** The thought filled him with dread. His birthday presents **

"Dad, may I read this part?" Harry interrupted. He never, ever wanted to think about it again, but he also didn't want his dad to find out his son had been—er… anyway… from a book. Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed the book away from his dad and scanned the paragraph to see what it contained. Relaxing (a bit) at the not-as-bad-as-he-thought contents, he continued the paragraph, leaving his dad to worry.

**His birthday presents weren't exactly typical—in fact, they may be the second-to- worst part of his life, and closely associated to the worst. He shuddered thinking about it. On every birthday he'd spent with the Dursleys, his uncle had felt the need to reinforce what he told Harry everyday- he was a freak, a burden. Every year on July 31****st****, after Aunt Petunia and Dudley were asleep, Harry was pulled from his cupboard to get words carved into his skin, deep enough to scar so he would never forget what he was. **

There was dead silence, the room sensing Harry wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible, and that their comments wouldn't' help.

** He didn't understand what they were until after he started primary school and began to read, and then they became a constant source of shame. The first ones— burden, freak, idiot, horror— didn't bother him as much. The others, starting on his 6****th****, were worse. They weren't something he was told constantly by his whole family. The last five—**

** Uncle Vernon was back, snapping Harry out of his morbid thoughts, and he was smiling.**

"Wha…?" Ron started, but quailed at a look from Hermione that clearly said _Just wait._

Harry kept reading, uncomfortable with the idea of just sitting there without anything to keep his eyes away from the morbidly curious ones around the room.

** He was also carrying a long, thin package and didn't answer Aunt Petunia when she asked what he'd bought.**

** "****Found the perfect place!" he said. "Come on! Everyone out!"**

** It was very cold outside the car. Uncle Vernon was pointing at what looked like a large rock way out sea. Perched on top of the rock was the most miserable little shack you could imagine. One thing was certain, there was no television in there.**

Several snorts were heard through the room, lowering the tension considerably.

** "****Storm forecast for tonight!" said Uncle Vernon gleefully, clapping his hands together. "And this gentleman's kindly agreed to lend us his boat!"**

** A toothless old man came ambling up to them, pointing, with a rather wicked grin, at an old rowboat bobbing in the iron-gray water below them.**

** "****I've already got us some rations," said Uncle Vernon, "so all aboard!"**

"He's got to be kidding!" exclaimed Dora. "Not only is he rowing a boat to a small, wet rock in the middle of nowhere, he's risking the lives of his family going out in a storm like that!"

** It was freezing in the boat. Icy sea spray and rain crept down their necks and a chilly wind whipped their faces. After what seemed like hours they reached the rock, where Uncle Vernon, slipping and sliding, led the way to the broken-down house.**

** The inside was horrible; it smelled strongly of seaweed, the wind whistled through the gaps in the wooden walls, and fireplace was damp and empty. There were only two rooms.**

**Uncle Vernon's rations turned out to be a bag of chips each and three bananas. **

"Did you get any crisps Harry?" asked Ginny suddenly. No one had dared to break the tension from before, until now. Harry nodded affirmative without looking up from the book.

** He tried to start a fire but the empty chip bags just smoked and shriveled up. **

** "****Could do with some of those letters now, eh?" he said cheerfully. He was in a very good mood. Obviously he thought nobody stood a chance of reaching them here in a storm to deliver mail. **

** Harry privately agreed, though the thought didn't cheer him up at all.**

It seemed that nobody had the nerve to tell him to cheer up, realizing he was in a small, cold, wet shack in the middle of nowhere with his abusive family and little to no hope.

** As night fell, the promised storm blew up around them. Spray from the high waves splattered the walls of the hunt and a fierce wind rattled the filthy windows. Aunt Petunia found a few moldy blankets in the second room and made up a bed for Dudley on the moth-eaten sofa. She and Uncle Vernon went to the lumpy bed next door, and Harry was left to find the softest bit of floor he could and to curl up under the thinnest, most ragged blanket.**

"Oh, Harry, were you okay?" asked Lily worriedly. Seeming to realize the ridiculousness of her statement, she amended it with, "Did you get sick?"

"I was alright, Mum," reassured Harry. It was comforting to see his mum fuss over him for something normal.

** The storm raged more and more ferociously as the night went on. Harry couldn't sleep. He shivered and turned over, trying to get comfortable, his stomach rumbling with hunger. Dudley's snores were drowned by the low rolls of thunder that started midnight. The lighted dial of Dudley's watch, which was dangling over the edge of the sofa on his fat wrist, told Harry he'd be eleven in ten minutes' time. He lay and watched his birthday tick nearer, wondering if the Dursleys would remember at all, wondering where the letter writer was now.**

** Five minutes to go. Harry heard something creak outside. He hoped the roof wasn't going to fall in, although he might be warmer if it did.**

_His typical optimistic pessimism, _thought Ginny fondly.

** Four minutes to go. Maybe the house in Privet Drive would be so full of letters when they got back that he'd be able to steal one somehow.**

** Three minutes to go. Was that the sea, slapping hard on the rock like that? And (two minutes to go) what was that funny crunching noise? Was the rock crumbling into the sea?**

The whole room was on the edge of their seats, inexplicably anxious for Harry.

** One minute to go and he'd be eleven. Thirty seconds... Twenty… fifteen ... ten– maybe he'd wake Dudley up, just to annoy him –six—no, he'd just get in trouble with Uncle Vernon— two... one...**

**BOOM**

** The whole shack shivered and Harry sat bolt upright, staring at the door. Someone was outside, knocking to come in.**

A/N So, whatchya think? Horrible? Scary? Morbidly good? Again, should Neville be here? Any ideas to get him here? Also, should they find out the true extent of Harry's abuse from the book or from questioning him?


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